RR Janet Greene - Chapter 8

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Reduction & Relocation: Janet Greene

Chapter 8 - Over the Hump

[February 12th, 2010]

Matt stood there on Janet’s dining room table, watching with contempt as she shoveled food into her face.  He was too small to see inside of her bowl, but he could see the loaded fork making its speedy round trips up to her gaping mouth.  Double servings of fried eggs slathered in butter, oil and salt might have already been enough for someone with a mission to overeat, but there was more. Bacon, shredded cheese, pepperoni, sausage, and a healthy slathering of creamy ranch dressing.  There were a few shredded leaves of lettuce sprinkled in as well.

“Starting my day off with a salad has basically changed my life.” Janet grinned, stopping just long enough to mix the gluttonous concoction into a homogenous mixture of overindulgence.  “Much healthier.”

She shoveled food into her face with an alarming but consistent lack of grace. Janet had eaten somewhere in the range of twenty to fifty times his body weight by now and much to Matt’s cresting misery, she hadn’t even offered him even a piece of lettuce yet.  He figured she must have been waiting for him to ask…just so that she could say no.  

Well, I’m not giving the bitch that satisfaction…

If she wanted to play this game of pride, then fine. He would play, and lucky for him it was a game that he knew he could win.  There was no way she would just let him starve.  She’d get in trouble with those incorrigible scientists .  Eventually, she’d see his diminished state, if it even got that far.  She’d come to him asking what his demands are.  What his rules should be.  And with just a pinch of luck, that would be enough to turn the tables in his favor.  Then she’ll take his order like a waitress. He just had to hold out and beat her.

And so Matt remained on the table, striking the balance between being too proud to ask and hoping he looked just pathetic enough for her to give him something. He didn’t need much, and it’s not like she’d miss it!  Hell, Matt could have probably sustained off of whatever was stuck in her crooked teeth.  

Good lord, best to not even think about that and risk giving the universe another idea…

Janet glanced at him for a moment. Her mouth was still full, ranch sauce dabbed at the corners of her lips and threatening to dribble down. Janet didn’t say anything, she just showed off the bacon and lettuce stuck between her teeth before digging back into her massive bowl.  

What was that? Two and a half seconds? Amazing she could go so long without a mouthful of food. 

Matt broke eye contact, feeling too overwhelmed by Janet’s attention. But he couldn’t escape the slurping and chewing sounds coming from above and he hated that such a detestable soundtrack could actually provoke hunger pains.  Maintaining distance from his inevitable return to Janet’s rump was wonderfully appealing, but this was a completely different kind of hell.  

“You know, I’ve been thinking…”

Right on the ‘kih’ syllable of the word ‘thinking’, Matt watched what he would describe as a boulder dislodge from Janet’s teeth and rush toward him.  In reality, it was a small flake of half-chewed, ranch-soak bacon bit and it rocketed from the stars, landing with a heavy, wet thud against Matt’s chest. The bacon boulder was around the size of a beach ball, and it knocked him backwards then landed with a hefty thump on the wooden table at his feet, leaving behind what to him felt like a dozen full bottles of ranch dressing painted over his bare chest.

“Ughh!” Matt recoiled, wishing he could jump out of his body and leave his skin.  The creamy ranch, watered down with Janet’s saliva, was now mixing with the remnants of the existing ass sweat and the humid, grimy coating of flatulence she’d buried him in earlier that morning.

“Whoops.” Janet giggled, scooping up the tiny fleck of bacon with a ranch-soaked finger, making a larger mess in front of Matt than the food fragment had, and she returned it to its rightful place upon her white tongue. 

Janet sent two fingers down to pinch Matt and lift him to her face.  He scanned wildly, looking down and seeing the bowl several dozen feet below him.  It was mostly empty–probably not enough ranch-soaked mush to break his fall if she were to drop him.

“I think I might be over ranch.  Maybe I’ll give French dressing a try next time I go grocery shopping.”

As she spoke, thick, creamy ropes of saliva appeared and broke. And despite the fact that Janet was half-heartedly wiping the ranch from his body with her dry napkin, he was so close to her face that the mist of her breath was finding home on his naked skin. Her eyes darted down between his legs. 

“Oh, look at that!” Janet laughed, extending a pinky out toward Matt’s crotch.  “And I thought you were a little thing.  That thing’s even littler!”

Matt didn’t find the joke, nor her rough prodding of his flaccid cock, to be even remotely amusing–but Janet apparently found it funny enough for the both of them.

“Speaking of which…” Janet sighed, wiping a jovial, mean-spirited tear from her eye.  “Here’s what I was thinking...I’m starting to get tired of calling you ‘Little Thing’, even though it really does describe you perfectly. After getting to know you a bit more and getting a better look at you, I think you look like a Steve or a Seth.”

Her fork clattered against the plate as she mustered up another heaping mouthful of food and greedily stuffed it into her face. She chewed loudly, her lips smacking with each bite, but she didn’t let that mouthful of slop rolling around in her mouth stop her from continuing to speak.  And every time she opened her fat face to speak, she shot tiny particles of egg, meat, and spit like high-speed hale in Matt’s direction.

“So…yeah, you can pick one of those to be your new name.”

“Pick…one of those?”

Janet raised her eyebrow, and Matt very quickly added on a ‘Miss Janet’ to the end of his question.

“Yeah, you can either be Steve or you can be Seth.  I’m sort of leaning toward Steve but I’m feeling really generous today.”

Really generous?! 

Matt would have laughed out loud had he not been so angry. ‘Generous’ would’ve been leaving him the hell alone, letting him keep his dignity, his identity…oh yeah, and also maybe not cramming him between her pale, smelly, cottage-cheese looking, dimpled ass cheeks. But no, this was Janet, and Janet never missed a chance to complement or elevate herself as if she were some benevolent queen.

How dare she think she could rename him? Changing someone’s name wasn’t a gift; it was an erasure of his identity. What right did she have to take that away from him? Generosity would be giving me a choice to participate in this godless experiment. She was the farthest thing from generous. 

“Sweety, when Miss Janet asks you a question, you better answer it the first time I ask.  And answer it honestly, by the way.  No Lying to Miss Janet is Rule #5.”

Oh, no lying?  You want the truth? You’re an ugly cow.  You’re a disgusting human being inside and especially outside and you deserve to be alone forever.

Would Matt actually say all that?  Considering that he’d be punished for forgetting the ‘Miss Janet’ at the end of his sentences, he figured it would not bode well for him if he told Janet the truth.  But maybe this was some kind of twisted trap. Or a test. She had to know that he didn’t want his name changed, right?  And if she was asking for the truth, maybe she was creating an opportunity for him to talk her out of it.  For him to give his argument about keeping his name.

Emboldened by Rule #5, Matt carefully navigated through the potential landmine of a response.  

“Miss Janet, My name is Matt.  It’s the name my parents gave me. It was my dad’s name.”

Surprisingly, Janet didn’t interrupt him…at least not yet.  

Actually, had he completely finished his thought, but now they were both basking in uncomfortable silence, save for her noisy, wet chewing.  Uncomfortable for him, at least.  She didn’t seem bothered by it.  In fact, she seemed to thrive in it; her lips curved up in a confusing smirk. God, that smirk!  That smug twist of her lips above the double chin was enough to make Matt want to punch her in the face.

The silence was deafening and Matt found himself stumbling over himself to fill the hush. “I..you know, I think I get your reasoning for not liking Matt…”

He probably thought you were as repulsive as I do.  In fact, I’m probably being too generous in thinking you could ever get a boyfriend.

“...I just figured there’s a lot of people out there named Matt and, well…you know, it’s just not really realistic to think you can avoid it…Miss Janet. I would really just prefer it if you called me Matt.”

Janet snorted, “Oh is that right?”

This wasn’t going well. Matt swallowed dryly, “I…I can appreciate why you don’t like the name, Miss Janet.  But it just doesn’t seem fair to–”

“--don’t worry about it.” Janet waved a dismissive hand at Matt as she set him back down on the table and wiped her face clean with a napkin.  Ropes of ranch-laden saliva clung to the floor and ceiling of her mouth as she spoke. “I won’t make you pick, Linty.”

Matt’s brow furrowed.  “What?  What’s–”

Blurrrrrrrrghhhhh!

Matt slammed his eyes shut, but not quick enough.  The acidic gas of her offensive and entirely unrestricted belch exploded out of her esophagus and found its way under his eyelids, burning his retinas and coating his lips.  Running his forearms along his face didn’t do much to remove the spittle, as his arms were just as soaked.

The towering behemoth seemed entirely unphased by what she’d just done. How rude it was to belch like that in front of someone! But to mist him in this putridity without a second thought?  Utterly repulsive.  

“I said don’t worry about it.  I’m unburdening you of the choice.”

“...okay.  But what’s Linty though?”

Janet laughed, “It’s your new name.  Like the stubborn lint that clings between your toes after wearing new socks.  Or the fuzz that somehow finds its way deep into your belly button. That’s you!”  Janet lifted her shirt and Matt grimaced at the sight.  She prodded at her stomach, dipping her index finger into her belly button.  “I may actually have some here….oh yeah, look at that!”  

Matt’s nose wrinkled in abject disgust as Janet smeared a collection of wet, gray hair and fuzz down next to him. The sharp, disgustingly sweet smell assaulted his nostrils and he tripped over himself trying to back away from it. 

“See, it’s only just a little smaller than you.You’re basically twins.”

What the fuck…

“Jan…I mean, Miss Janet.  That’s–”

“--You see, Linty.” Janet took her bowl and silverware to the sink, leaving Matt on the table in front of where she’d been sitting.  “I know guys like you.”

She paused at the sink.  “Well…guys like you once were. You know what I mean.  Whatever.” Janet waived a dismissive hand. “Anyway, you don’t like having all these choices. They overwhelm you.”

Matt was flabbergasted as Janet returned to the table and plopped back down in front of him. Now there was nothing between him and her.  “And trust me, I know what you’re thinking right now.  You’re thinking ‘But Miss Janet!  You’re a strong, confident woman!  How could you possibly know what it is to be something like me?’ Well first off, thank you.” Janet laughed, setting a hand against her chest.  “Second off, that’s a great question.  And third, I’ve got a pretty good imagination.  Always have. I know it seems crazy, but I can actually put myself in your shoes and imagine what the world looks like from down there in your position.”

Matt couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or if she was just this blatantly full of herself. Why was she so difficult to read! There’s no way she was this deep!

“I can understand that you’re so little and afraid that choices would be too big and scary.  It doesn’t make any sense to me as a woman, but I can put myself in the mind of a weak little thing..and trust me, I know that most girls don’t get it.  But I do.  I get it.”

That was too far…as if this was her first time crossing lines that Matt didn’t know existed. But he couldn’t control himself.  

“I’m not weak.” Matt growled.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure my pinky toe could take you in a fight, Linty.” Janet cackled, “So yeah…sorry, not sorry, but if I looked up ‘weak’ in the dictionary, and I held a magnifying glass up to it, I’m pretty sure I’d find an itty bitty picture of you.”

Matt scowled at Janet with a fire in his eyes but she returned condescension and giggles.  He wouldn’t be able to tolerate much more of this.  

“And just for the record, this is the second time I’ve asked you to make a choice.  And it's the second time you’ve thanked me by spitting in my face.

Matt nearly choked on the irony.

That’s rich coming from you, bitch!  You spit every other syllable when you talk and you’ve been spitting all over me this entire time! Not to mention DIRECTLY spitting on me yesterday!

Janet leaned forward “So like I said:  Don't. Worry. About it.  You don’t have to choose your name.  You’re not choosing and I’m no longer offering.” She smirked with an air of victory and enjoyment.  

“Your new name,” she continued, her tone bright with mockery. “is Linty.”

Matt mustered up some waning courage and his voice trembled up to her. “Miss Janet, please.  Don’t call me that.”

Janet’s eyes flashed with wicked amusement.  “Why wouldn’t I call you by your name, Linty?”

“Miss Janet, please.” Matt stammered.  “Fine, you can call me Steve, okay?”

Her laughter boomed, “Oh, silly Linty.  I appreciate your permission.  But like I said, that window closed.  Your name is Linty now.”

“This isn’t fair, Miss Janet.”

“It’s perfectly fair.” Janet said calmly.

“No, it’s not, Miss Janet!” Matt whined.

Janet’s fist slammed into the table with a deafening thud. It rattled the decorative candles and empty fruit bowl at the center of the table and it rattled Matt’s tiny bones.  Janet’s fist had come down on the table, no more than six inches away from him, and it was enough force to knock him off balance.

“Do.  Not.  Argue with me.”

The sunlight coming in from the window seemed to dim as Janet’s shit-eating grin was replaced by a serious-as-shit frown.  

She left her balled-up fist right next to Matt and leaned in closer to him, her breasts pressing into the table.  So much of her body overwhelmed him, not least of all her face which was now as close to him as her fist.

He felt as if he was shrinking again, this time not from some giant behemoth of a machine with blinking lights and lasers, but from Janet’s piercing scrutiny.  All the insolence and defiance, as weak as it may have been, evaporated from Matt’s demeanor and voice. The fight in him had dissolved into pure submission. “I’m…I’m sorry, Miss Janet.  I’m really sorry.”

The cloud blocking out her wafer-thin reserve of compassion seemed to pass as he apologized and she calmly sat back in her seat.  “I didn’t warn you about Rule #6, Linty,” Janet’s tone was calm but carried an intensity of authority, as though she were a stern professor. “No arguing.”

Matt’s head tilted down as he avoided her gaze. “Yes, Miss Janet.”

“I figured that it would have been like…intuitively obvious that something as little as you shouldn’t be arguing with someone as big as me. But hey, that’s on me for not explaining it to you.”

The tone of charitability in her voice did not make her seem generous.  It only pricked at Matt’s already frayed nerves, and he gritted his teeth, his tiny fists clenched at his sides. But he said nothing, not daring to dig himself deeper.

“But,” Janet added, her voice taking on a harder edge, “it’s a really important rule. One of the most important ones, actually. Right up there with Rule #3: No Interrupting. Heck, it might even outrank that one.” She tilted her head. She looked thoughtful, as though she was genuinely debating the hierarchy of her ridiculous rules. Another quiet moment passed and then something seemed to click in her mind and she no longer appeared contemplative.  She’d made a decision. “Honestly, it’s so important of a rule that I’m actually still gonna have to punish you for breaking it.”

Matt’s shoulders slumped as the weight of her words crushed him. 

Was she serious? Of course, she was. 

Janet didn’t joke about things like this—not when she had the power to make his life even more miserable.

His voice came out small, weak, almost a whisper. “Miss Janet…please…”

Janet waved her hand dismissively, the motion sending a gust of air that ruffled his hair. “Don’t beg, Linty. I’ll admit that it’s adorable but it’s unbecoming. And not to mention it’ll do nothing to help you.”

You just asked me to beg you to let me stand on those clean panties in the bathroom!  And now you’re telling me not to beg at all? How the hell are you as inconsistent as you are ugly? Even hot girls aren’t this crazy! You’ve got no right to this much insanity!

“It was a rule whether you knew it or not!” Janet squinted at the analog clock on her wall.  It was 9:30 AM. If he were back home in his normal life, Matt would have already been up for several hours at this point, not just getting his day started like this lazy woman. “Shoot, time flies when you’re having fun.  There’s still so much I have to teach you about. We haven’t even gotten to the DDM yet!”

“DDM, Miss Janet?” Matt asked timidly.

“The Dynamic Daily Minimum.  You don’t remember the nice ladies at RR Labs telling you about that?  I’m sure they did, right?”

Matt shivered. 

Oh, he remembered the Dynamic Daily Minimum, alright.  That big-booty blonde bitch back at RR Labs mentioned DDM to one of the other chicks but the jargon was too frustrating and stupid to try and keep up with.  If his memory served right, her name was Brandi Thompson and she had some bullshit title.  

What was it…Acclimation Therapist? Whatever the fuck that means.  

Right after his Reduction Therapy Session as they called it, he was given to Brandi, who proceeded to wedge him right up between her huge ass cheeks.  Admittedly, it was a pretty incredible ass, but not so incredible that he’d want to be wedged inside of it!  She was remarkably chipper and positive for someone who was gobbling up shrunken men with her glutes, so in a way it didn’t actually surprise Matt that she had some semblance of superficial mercy. She had decided to keep her leggings on so he didn’t have to come into contact with the bare skin of her badonkadonk.  She would recite mantras like “Embrace the warmth!” and “Trust the cushion!” like her ass was the head of a cult or something. Had he come across her in real life and seen her grinning at him across a coffee lounge table instead of down at him while pinched between her fingers, he might have fallen under her spell. 

The Dynamic Daily Minimum had been brought up by Kelli more than a few times by Kelli.  She had personally stressed about it enough for him to remember, anyway.  She’d proposed the idea once or twice of increasing the hours per day that he would be confined between her cheeks, after all she was a broke college student looking for any way to make more money and apparently the RR Sickos paid their bitches even more money for increasing that DDM number.  

Kelli broached the topic in the most delicate, round-about way but it didn’t matter how polite she was. The idea was that he’d be spending even more time in her ass.  Unacceptable.  Predictably enough, Matt responded by screaming at her that their current arrangement was barely tolerable and that she was fucked up enough for even doing that. They wouldn’t be increasing the DDM and the matter was settled. Kelli cried, and either got more hours at her current job or got a second job.  Matt didn’t know, and Matt didn’t care. And that was the last he’d heard about a DDM.

He couldn’t believe that he found himself looking back on that as if they were the good ol’ days.

“Earth to Linty?” Janet spouted through her hand, cupped over her mouth like a megaphone.  “DDM?  You know it, right?”

Matt nodded solemnly. 

“What did your last owner work up to?”

Kelli was NOT my owner! 

He didn’t have an owner; he was a person!  But Matt wasn’t about to start that argument with Janet.  He knew what she was asking, and he figured it would be easier to just humor her.

“Six hours, Miss Janet.” Matt said, expecting Janet to be surprised.  Six hours a day trapped inside a butt, every single day was an insanely high number.

Janet grinned as her brow wrinkled in confusion, like she was waiting for the punchline of a joke that never came.  “Six hours? You’re kidding.  That’s it?”  

Matt most certainly was not kidding. But he was already beginning to feel conditioned to nausea when Janet smiled. It was all he could stand tolerating six hours a day in Kelli’s ass.  Although now he was wondering if it really was all that bad. 

“Six hours every day, Miss Janet.” Matt repeated.

“Those are rookie numbers, Linty!  Don’t worry, I’ll getcha into the pros.”

Rookie numbers?  She can’t be serious, right? Six hours is a quarter of a day!

“So Rusty and I had just gotten to a pretty important milestone according to RR Labs.  Dr. Bexley called it getting ‘Over the Hump’. Any guesses on what that means?”

Matt took a moment to think, “Umm…it means that the experiment is halfway over?”

Janet blinked twice, then burst into a belly laugh so loud that it rattled Matt’s ears. She leaned forward, her face flushed and her entire body quivered. “Oh you’ve got such a great sense of humor, Linty.  Don’t ever lose that; it’s hilarious!”

She dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue, sniffling as if Matt had just told the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “No, sweetie,” she continued, shaking her head in patronizing disbelief. “It’s not a halfway point of the experiment. That’s so cute, though, bless your heart. It’s more like… a Participant achievement. There’s some fancy technical term for it in the Rear Housing Guidebook. Anyway,” she continued with a dismissive wave, “I don’t remember the exact name off the top of my head.”

“The point is,” she placed a hand upon her chest, “a Participant like me and a subject like you”—she punctuated this with a tap on Matt’s flinching head—“are considered ‘Over the Hump’ when the little subject spends more of his day in the Participant’s bottom than he spends away from it.

Matt’s jaw hit the floor, and Janet giggled. “Rusty and I had just gotten to thirteen hours a day before…well…” 

Even as appalled as he was by this concept of being ‘over the hump’, this was now yet another time he’d heard about this Rusty person.  Never in Matt’s life had he been more engaged–more enthralled with the next words to come from Janet’s mouth.  She looked up at the ceiling and her upper body bounced as she let out a quiet chuckle.  “...it’s not important.  The important thing is that I got pretty used to having a soft, cute little lump in my butt all day.”

Okay, back to that now.  Thirteen hours a day??  Spent in that fat ass swallowed up by those flubbery butt cheeks?!?!

Again Janet waived a hand as if she’d just been talking about something as mundane as the weather. “But we’ll get to that later. I’ve gotta get to work soon.  Someone’s gotta make the money around here!”

~